The Last Hope
by Quagsire Main
Summary: It's been 17 years since the gods made their big mistake, 17 years since greed gained reason. At present, those who cause the misfortune that reigns over the continent are lost in the shadows while those who blame none should bear the burden of their sins. Life has never been fair, nor will it ever be. But whenever there is hope there will be someone who decides to hold on to it


**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Gate and Pappers Please, both works belong to their respective authors, this is only a non-profit fiction story for the purpose of entertaining.**

**December 21, 1999**

**Border Checkpoint, West Alnus**

A long line of people stretched for several kilometers while the cold winter snow fell on their heads, whole families who carried only what they could carry on their shoulders were scattered along with the great wave of humans and demi-humans They were looking for a better life.

Among them was a young man who, like others, stood out for his particular way of dressing, his name was Gyffard and unlike many people who wore traditional attire from the prewar period, instead of having ragged peasant clothes, he preferred to wear a dress more in line with what these foreigners who came years ago wore. A simple shirt and jeans

Like him, several wore similar clothing, although most people especially those who were already at a certain age tried to hold on to the past.

It had been several days since he had begun to form the line, those who had not been able to resist had been set apart by Arstotzkian soldiers to be buried, sadly their final resting place would be a mass grave.

It was torture, he couldn't deny it, but even so, this was what he had to do to get out of the miserable situation in which he was if he did not want to run the same fate as his family.

"Next" he could hear from the speaker at the border post

The next immigrant stepped forward and trembling entered the border post at the watchful eye of the guards, being a demi-human immigration process was much more difficult than for a common human so it would be a good time until He could move on.

But that didn't matter anymore, he was next and after several days, he was in front of the border checkpoint one step away from being able to have a decent life.

He was nervous, it had taken a long time to meet all the requirements to cross to the other side, his life from this part of the great wall had been a total misery making him starve more than once.

The guards around the wall also did not help reassure him, much less see how they detained people at the border post at the slightest sign of discontent at the dreaded red seal.

He checked his precarious woolen bag, in which there were only a few credits that had more than enough paperwork needed to cross.

"Next" repeated the speaker of the border post, it was his turn.

With all his documentation at hand, he advanced very fearfully to that room where he would be judged by the inspector.

With each step that each his heartbeats louder while he felt like every second an adrenaline shot was placed in his body.

After a few seconds I entered, it was the immigration booth, a dark room where a guard with a serious look watched him accusingly, it was definitely Arstotzkian.

This man in a black uniform held his rifle tightly, always carrying a finger on the trigger, typical of each one when he saw a native of Falmart.

"Papers please" ordered a perfect Slavic voice

"Papers please" orders a voice in Slavic language

Giffard froze for a moment until the man interrupted again in a low voice.

"Your documentation please, don't waste my time"

Gyffard got out of his trance and gave all the papers he had in his hand including that little purple book known as a passport.

The inspector abruptly took the documents while he sat in his seat

"Your reason for coming to Arstotzka territory?"

"I come to work"

"How long will it be here?"

"1 year"

The man began to carefully review each of his documents, his passport, his work permit, vaccination card and some others.

"What is life like in Arstotzka?" Gyffard asked in his raw Slavic

The inspector stared at him, gave a mischievous smile after a few seconds "It's a paradise"

The Inspector soon grabbed one of the seals, closed his eyes for a moment hoping it wasn't the red one that people talked and feared so much.

He heard the sound and after a while, he opened his eyes, his eyes lit up when he saw that his passport had the green stamp that indicated that it was approved.

"Welcome comrade, Glory to Arstotzka!" exclaimed the man before grabbing the microphone in his cubicle "Next"

Gyffard grabbed all the papers and quickly placed them in his humble bag, the guard who previously looked at him in a bad way let him pass to the freedom offered by Arstotzka.

When he left the post he felt like he lost a great weight from above, looked away and saw the demi-human who had previously passed control, he was glad that he with so many complications could have passed.

That happiness disappeared when he saw how suddenly he saw how several Arstotzkian soldiers drew their weapons at the same time that the sirens began to sound.

"Glory to Hardy! Death to Arstotzka!" the demi-human shouted all lungs while a bluish light broke away from him.

The shots began to be heard from all sides by the Arstotzkian soldiers, to their bad fortune the demi-human was immolated against them before they could escape.

The explosion of magic caused Gyffard to fall to the ground disoriented while a sharp stabbing pain appeared in his chest.

He looked at his chest and saw that he had been hit by some bullets, writhed in pain on the ground and soon saw that the soldier accompanying the inspector had appeared.

"Please help me!" he asked desperately but he ignored him completely preferring to go to help the injured by the suicide bomber.

Slowly he saw how his life was going out while no one went out to help him, in a few minutes the area was completely empty.

That soldier approached him at that moment, Gyffard tried to reach out and implored for his help again.

"I'll help you, comrade," he said, holding his AK-47. "I'll help you."

Gyffard quickly understood and resigned closed his eyes, could not find a better life, but at least he will be able to see his family again.

"Glory to Arstotzka" he murmured before the inevitable happened.

* * *

**This was an idea that occurred to me yesterday, now the question is:**

**Would you like a fic about this?**

**If I feel inspired I can do it**


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